


Like Father, Like Daughter

by MelaKay



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Arguing, Arguments, Crying, Dad - Freeform, Dismay, F/M, Father Figures, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Meetings, Hugs, Lunch, Money, Playing hookey, Pranks, Pre-Apocalypse, School, Shock, Tears, attitude, coming clean, daughter - Freeform, diner, meetings, principal, skipping, slap, warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-12-06 20:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18225065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelaKay/pseuds/MelaKay
Summary: Negan finds out he has a daughter and tries to build a relationship, much to his ex's dismay***Discontinued for the time being***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-apocalypse/Apocalypse
> 
> Y/m/n - Your mother's name

Negan. That is all I know about the man my mother claims to be my father.

His name.

I am deaf to the sound of his voice and blind to his looks. Ignorant to his likes and dislikes.

Everytime I ask about him my mother shuts me down, cursing and trash talking him up and down the house at the top of her voice.

She urges, orders me to never bring him up again, how I am much better off without him in my life.

But I disagree. Oh, how I disagree.

I desperately wanted to know him despite my mother's objections so I hired a private investigator behind her back, paying him every penny I had saved in my mason jar.

Two hundred dollars and three months later he found him, living in the suburbs with a woman assumed to be his wife.

I skipped school that day just to meet him.

Finally.

I saunter up the porch stairs, nervous with sweaty palms, and lift a finger, pushing in the doorbell.

The large, green, wooden door swings open, a man in a white T-shirt and blue jeans stands on the other side of the threshold. He was tall and lean in stature, black and white strands of hair slicked back with some gel. The man arches one finely dark brow and furrows the other. He departs his thin, slightly chapped lips accentuated by his finely trimmed salt and pepper beard and speaks

"Hey kid, can I help you?"

I open my mouth to answer but no words fall out

"You lost?" He questions, growing concerned

"A-Are you Negan?"

"That depends, who wants to know?" He scoffs with a sarcastic chuckle

"I'm sorry. I-I'm Y/n Y/l/n" I introduce myself "I hired a private investigator to find you"

The man sneaks a peek over his shoulder before stepping his feet on the welcome mat and gently closing the door behind him as if to keep someone inside from overhearing "You did what?"

"I hired a private investigator to find you"

"No, I heard that part, kid, why?"

"Bec-" I pause, inhaling in a deep breath "Because I'm your daughter"

The man throws his head back, laughing "You're funny kid, really fucking funny. Who put you up to this, huh? My buddy Simon? How much did he pay you?"

"N-No, no, no, this isn't a prank. No one payed me" I clarify "You ever have relations with a woman named Y/m/n?"

"Y/m/n. Y/m/n" The tall man repeats my mother's name in thought "Yeah, I remember a Y/m/n from ages ago" he smirks "Good times"

"Well, she's my mother" I retort, the man's mouth going agape "Turns out, I was made the last time you two were together"

"No" He shakes his head "No, this...How fucking old are you, kid?"

"Sixteen"

He goes into thought, doing the math in his head "Shit"

"Yeah" I agree "Listen, don't worry. I'm honestly not here for money or anything. I just really wanted to meet you, that's all, see what you look like, hear your voice"

"Your mom never talked to you about me, showed you pictures?"

"No" I answer, shaking my head "She's never really been a big fan of yours. Everytime I ask about you she would throw a fit and order me to never bring up your name again. What did you do to her to make her hate you so much?"

"Well, I may or may have not lied to her about being married when we were involved. She eventually later found out that, not only was I married, but also had other mistresses on the side"

"Oh"

"Yeah, kid" he sighs, palm of his hand rubbing against the nape of his neck "Your mother wanted nothing to ever do with me again after that"

"Negan?" A soft, female voice calls from the inside.

He opens the door back up, a short and petite woman with black hair and a flower adorned sundress makes herself visible

"Yeah, hon?"

"What are you doing out here?" Her hazel eyes landing on me "Who is this?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I got lost and saw your husband out here checking his mailbox, thought I'd ask him for directions to the train station so I can get home" I lie, protecting him

"Alright" She accepts, turning her attention back on her husband "I'm going to go take a quick shower. Lunch is ready for you in the kitchen"

"Okay, darlin', thank you"

His wife leaves, making her way up the stairs, the creaking beneath her feet loud enough for the whole world to hear.

"Thanks, kid, for having my back. That was close"

"Yeah, don't mention it" I smile "Your wife is very pretty"

"Fuck yeah she is" he boasts with enthusiasm

"Do you have any other kids? You know, besides me?"

"No" he snickers "At least none that I know of"

"Right" I sigh "Well, I'm going to go. Don't really want to make this interaction anymore awkward than it already is. It was nice meeting you, finally...Negan"

"Yeah. Yeah, you too kid" he simpers "And try not to be a stranger okay?"

"I-"

"Wait here" Negan disappears inside the home for a few minutes, coming back out with a pen and pad, scribbling quickly "Here" he tears the paper from the pad and hands it to me, his phone number in blue ink written across the sheet "You ever want to talk about anything, or meet up, you call or text me, anytime"

"Okay" I fold the piece of paper in half and stick it inside my pocket "My mother will kill me if she ever finds this, about any of this, really, but...Thank you"

He nods, smiling as I turn my back and tread down the stairs.

And I smile because I met him.

Finally.


	2. Chapter 2

Arriving home late that afternoon I could tell my mother was not a happy camper as she sat on the couch in silence, gradually sipping on a glass of wine. 

"Hi, mom" I greet, closing the door behind me "How are you?"

"Forget about me" she counters distastefully "Where have you been?"

"School, where else could I be?" I fib, ambling towards the stairs

"School" She scoffs, shaking her head "That's funny because your principal called earlier saying you never made it to school"

"Oh my God" I groan, rolling my eyes "The only high school in this whole godforsaken town who calls home when a student doesn't show up as if I'm five years old!"

"Never mind that" my mother gulps down the remainder of her wine and slams the glass down on top of the coffee table. She stands and treads towards me, glaring with a deadly stare, her hands resting on her hips "Now answer me, truthfully, where have you been, Y/n?"

"Out. I was out, okay?"

"Out where?"

I sigh "I..."

"I? I, what?"

I lower my head, trying to avoid eye contact but my mother was not having it. She places her fingers under my chin, lifting my head back up, forcing me to look at her

"I went...to go see dad"

"You....Did what?" She answers with a long pause and raised voice, feeling betrayed "How did you find him?"

"Private investigator"

Her eyes bulge wide open in surprise "Private investigator?"

"Yeah, I hired a private investigator off the internet and paid him every single penny I had saved to find dad" I explain "And I'm glad I did it, too"

"How dare you, after I specifically told you over and over again what a ter-"

"He's not a bad guy, mom, not at all" I defend "Just because you're angry and hate him for what he did to you does not give you the right to keep me from getting to know him and vice versa, alright?"

"I never told you what that bastard did to me. How did you-"

"He did, because I asked him" I answer, growing upset and impatient

My mother takes in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to calm herself "You stay away from him" she orders

"Not happening" I counter bravely, standing my ground "You're my mother, and I love you, but that does not mean that I have to feel the same way towards him as you. I'm not saying he wasn't wrong in lying to you, making you feel special like he didn't have other whores on the-"

My mother raises her hand, slapping me across the face. My cheek was red and stinging, mouth open wide in shock as she has never hit me before. Ever, until now.

"You stay away from him" my mother repeats sternly "Because in time, he will end up hurting you, probably worse than he hurt me" She pesters "Are you hearing me? I am not asking you, Y/n"

"I don't care" I retort with a quivering lower lip "I'll take my chances, thanks"

I run up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door with a harsh thud behind me, angrily tossing my backpack on top of the bed.

My blood was boiling. I reach into my pocket and pull out his number along with my cell, fingers punching in the ten digits and hitting that call button without hesitation.

"Hello?" His rough voice answers into my ear

"Hey, it's Y/n" I sniffle "From earlier"

"Oh, hey kid, how's it going? Didn't expect to hear from you so soon" he chuckles "You okay?"

"Yes, I'm good" I lie "I know this may be too soon but I was wondering if you'd maybe like to meet up for lunch tomorrow?"

"Ugh, sure, yeah, I can do that, kid. You have a place in mind?"

"Yeah, I have a place in mind" I answer, giving him the address to my favorite diner and the time I wanted to meet.

"Okay, sounds good"

"Alright" I voice "See you then"

"See you, kid. Take care"

"Yeah, you too. Bye"

We hang up. I rest the phone along with his number on the nightstand and make myself comfortable, leaning with my back against the headboard.

A tear slides down my cheek but I smile, upset to go against one parent but happy to get to know the other.

 


	3. Chapter 3

One hour and a table full of good food was all it took for my dad to know all there is to know about me and vice versa, like we were never cut out of each others lives to begin with. And now I sit at another table, but this time I am neither hungry nor sociable, playing soccer with my fork and peas.

“Y/n, can you pass the salt?” my mother inquires but I choose to ignore her, request going in one ear and out the other with ease

“Y/n” my soon to be step-father joins in, trying to grab my attention “Stop playing with your food and do as your mother asked, please”

I lift my eyes, glaring at the skinny, balding man under my lashes “You have hands, you can pass it to her”

“She didn’t ask me, she asked you”

I subtly roll my eyes and grab at the salt shaker, sliding it towards my mother “You’re welcome”

“What is it with you today, what’s with the attitude all of a sudden, huh?”

“She’s upset because I slapped her earlier” my mother answers his question

“For no reason”

“You called me, your own mother a whore, y/n, don’t play that card with me”

I open my mouth, gasping “I did no such thing”

“Yes, you most certainly did” my mother counters “Was it not you who said that your no good, cheating, asshole of a father was wrong in making me feel special like he didn’t have other whores on the side?”

“I did not curse him but yeah, I did say that, so?”

“Like he didn’t have other whores on the side, y/n. Other whores. That’s insinuating I was one of his many whores”

“Okay” I sigh “You repeating it back to me, I see that maybe I may have worded it wrong but that still did not give you the right to slap me. I was not calling you a whore nor do I think you are one, okay?”

My mother leans back in her chair, crossing her arms “I’m not hearing an apology, y/n”

“Because I have nothing to apologize for, what do you mean?”

“Y/n” my soon to be step father utters my name warningly

“What?”

“This isn’t like you. Lose the attitude and show some respect, alright? Stop being difficult and apologize to your mother”

“Oh my - fine - Mom, I’m sorry you misunderstood my whole dad mistreating you comment” I turn my focus on the man seated across from me “There, you happy?”

“Not in the slightest” he retorts distastefully, shaking his head “Do it again”

“No” I rest the fork down on my uneaten plate of food and stand “And you’re not my father so you are technically in no position to be telling me what to do”

“Y-”

I storm away from the table, heading towards the door

“And where on earth do you think you’re going?” my mother directs towards me with a raised voice

“To see dad” I counter, swinging the door open

“Yeah, like hell you are” she expresses with authority, forcing herself to stand and speed walk after me “Y/n, ge-”

“Don’t begin to worry if I don’t come home tonight”

I slam the door shut behind me and run towards the train station, my mothers voice calling after me fading each time my shoes hit against concrete.

She’ll get over it. I mean, a girl can hope can’t she? I hope my mother will get over this whole mess, I hope one day she will come to forgive him for his mistakes, I hope that…

This is stupid.

I am having second thoughts now as I get off the train and walk as slow as a snail towards my father’s house, afraid that his wife, Lucille, will come to overreact and throw a fit bigger than of my own mother’s raging antics. But with good reason, of course, that I understand, her not having the slightest clue of my existence and with her husband sneaking behind her back just to see me.

My father and I did discuss the possibility at lunch of opening up to her but when and how was still a mystery. All we agreed on was that it needed to be done and that I would do all the talking.

I amble up the porch stairs with the same lackadaisical pace as before and stand in front of his door, taking in a deep breath.

Just as I raised my hand to knock the door swings open, Lucille standing on the other side with furrowed brows, her dark eyes landing on me questionably.

“You again” she articulates calmly “The girl who was lost, asked my husband for directions”

“Yes, about that, ma’am. Um…” I grow nervous, my fingers fidgeting with each other “Is your husband home?”

“Maybe, why?” she questions, growing more and more suspicious “Who are you exactly? What business do you have with Negan?”

“Please, just let me come in and I promise I will explain everything”

Lucille steps aside with attitude and pursed lips, motioning with her hand for me to enter into her home, white in color with minimalist style decor.

“This way”

I follow closely behind her as he she leads me into the living room, Negan seated on a black leather couch, watching baseball with a beer in hand and his feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him.

Gradually, he turns his head, almost choking on his beer witnessing me standing next to his wife.

“Hey, kid” my dad greets as he lowers his feet from the table and stands, wiping at the beer residue still lingering on his lips with the back of his hand “What brings you by?”

“The fact that I think it’s time we get it over with and just tell her”

“T-tell me what?” she turns her head, staring at her husband “Negan, what is she talking about, tell me what?”

“Ma’am, m-”

“Lucille” she corrects

“Okay. Lucille. May we sit? Please?”

Lucille reluctantly agrees, Negan taking a seat next to her on the long sofa and me taking a seat adjacent from them on the sofa chair.

He reaches over and grabs her hand, holding it in the center of his palm, that one small gesture bringing a short lived smile to my face

“Tell me what?” She repeats, growing impatient

“Well, kid” Negan raises the bottle to his lips, taking a swig “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure”

“Because if you’re not up for it-”

“Will someone please just tell me what the heck is going on?”

“I-”

“She’s my kid” Negan speaks quickly over me

Lucille indignantly snatches her hand back from her husbands hold “She’s what?”

“My kid”

“Kid meaning…”

“Daughter” I answer

She stands, pacing back and forth “When did this happen?”

“Years ago” Negan responds, resting his bottle on top of the table “I had no idea she existed until recently”

“H-how do you even know she’s yours?” Lucille stops pacing, facing her husband, her hand pointed towards me “This could all be a ruse to get money out of us for all you know”

“Ma’am, I swear to you I really don’t care nor do I want any money, I just-”

“I did the math, Lucille, it all adds up. She’s my kid, okay?”

“How do you know her mother wasn’t sleeping with someone else the same time as you? How do you know that?”

“Okay, you clearly have a lot of questions which, in your position, is perfectly understandable, and that is why I would gladly be open to take a DNA test and resolve this once and for all” I put forth, a tear sliding down my cheek “I know for sure that your husband is my dad and I just want a relationship with him, that’s it. I swear to you that’s it”

Lucille shakes her head and exits the room, making her way upstairs.

“Lucille” Negan calls but she keeps on walking “Lucille” he tries again before turning towards me, observing another tear slide down my cheek, and another, now quickly finding himself walking towards me, his slender arms pulling me close and wrapping protectively around my small frame.

I raise my arms and hug him back as I continue to cry against his chest

“I’m sorry”


	4. Chapter 4

"Don't ever do that again" my father speaks softly, breaking the awkward silence that consumes the car ride taking me back home

"What?" I turn my head from the outside world, red, half dried eyes landing on his hand gripping tightly against the steering wheel

"What you did back at the house. Never apologize for something that isn't your fault" he clarifies "Ever. You hear me?"

"I mean, I usually don't, but what happened back there kind of is my fault, you know? I came over without alerting you, catching you off guard, and then I go and spill this giant cup of tea on your wife about me being your kid"

"Shit yeah you sure as hell did catch me off guard, kid, but let's remember that, technically, I was the one who spilled about you being my kid and we did both agree to tell her anyway, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, but we agreed to do it together"

My father chuckles lightly "You were there, weren't you?"

"That-" I snicker, shaking my head "Is not what I meant"

"I know what you meant and the little bit you did say was enough. Spoke volumes"

"Look, I don't blame your wife for feeling the way she does, I would have honestly reacted the same way, I just don't want her to hate me for something that wasn't my fault and that I had absolutely no control over. I didn't ask for you to cheat on her with my mom and for me to be born"

"Her anger is more towards me than you, kid. She knows none of this shit is your fault"

"Really? Because all she did was put the blame on me though, accusing me of running some con game"

"Because there are shitty people out there who do that kind of fuckery"

"Yeah, I know there are, but I did tell you when I first met you I don't want any money. As you know I'm already pretty darn capable of making that on my own"

"Your summer babysitting and cashier gigs, right? I remember you told me that at lunch and I am damn fucking proud of you for it"

"Right, thanks"

My father lets out a defeated sigh "How are things at home with your mother and the soon to be step-dick?"

"Horrible, thanks for asking"

"Why?"

"Guess"

"Me?"

"Yup"

"Shit" my father snorts "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, huh?"

I laugh "Yeah, you got that right"

"Don't worry, kid, I'll talk to her when we get there"

"Eh" I whine unsurely "I don't think that's such a good idea both for your sake and mine"

"No, kid, I need to. I need an apology"

"For what? Keeping me a secret from you?"

"Damn straight"

"Yeah, she was wrong in doing that but what matters is now and what's to come, right?" I raise my lips into a miniscule smile "I'm not going anywhere"

"Neither am I but that's not the point"

"So what is the point?"

"The fact that you're the one hurting and I don't fucking like it"

"I'm a big girl, I can handle it"

"I don't doubt for a second that you can" my father shrugs "But, again, I don't like seeing you emotionally hurt, which you've been everytime I've seen you" he turns his head briskly, giving me a quick glance, noticing my perplexed expression "I say that because you're not at all good in pretending like everything is, as you say each time I ask how you're feeling, fine"

"Gee" I laugh "Can't get anything past you, huh?"

"No, no one can, kid" the lean and tall man beside me expresses with a gentle exhale as he parks the car in front of my home, taking the key out of the ignition with hesitance like he was having second thoughts, his brown eyes continuing to stare at the road ahead

"Everything okay?" I inquire, taking off my seatbelt

"Yeah, kid, everything is good"

"Okay" I nod in agreement "You still want to come up and talk to her?"

"Mhm, sure as fuck do, yeah" my father takes off his seatbelt and joins me outside where we share a momentary glance before walking up the stairs.

"I have a key, just need a second to find it" I reach my hand halfway into my pocket, my fingertips in contact with the metal of the key until my father stops me from latching on, his digits wrapped kindly around my forearm

"Can you knock instead? I want your mother or her dick fiance to answer the door"

"Yes, I can do that" I snicker, raising my hand out of my pocket, clenched, and knocking on the wooden surface "Bonus if it's both who answer"

"Honestly, I wish both of them would, kid"

I knock a second time, the door finally swinging open

"Jesus, you forg-" my mother pauses midsentence, her lightly colored irises glaring at my dad beside me with hatred "What in the hell are you doing here?" she musters angrily through gritted teeth

"Shit" my father scoffs "Nice to fucking see you too, y/m/n. It's been a while"

"What the hell are you doing here?" She questions again with a raised voice, an octave higher than before

"Dad was nice enough to drive me home" I answer "He didn't want me taking the train"

"I told you to never call him that again, y/n" my mother places her hand on my shoulder blade, pushing me inside "Upstairs. Now, please"

"What? No"

"Up. Stairs. Now. Please?"

"Fine" I huff, rushing upwards and taking a seat at the top of the stairs, out of sight and nosey to the conversation between my parents arguing down below.

"Well" Negan smirks cockily "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"No" my mother answers with pursed lips "I want you to leave" she goes to shut the door in his face but my father stops her, inserting his boot in between to keep the wooden frame from shutting completely.

"No, no, no" my father tsks, clicking his tongue against his pearly whites, his thin but large hand planted on the door, forcing it back open, helping himself inside "We have shit to talk about"

My mother slams the door shut with a bang "We have absolutely nothing to talk about. Get. Out"

Negan raises his index finger and wags it at my mother, purposefully bumping into her shoulder as he strolls past her at a glacial pace with a devilish grin and slumps himself on the couch, raising his feet to rest on the coffee table, his ankles crossed "That is where you're fucking wrong, my dear, we have plenty to talk about"

 


End file.
